


roses

by diminishedmercury



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Psychological Trauma, archon is not a good man, immoral magic usage, worldhoppers/reality hoppers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diminishedmercury/pseuds/diminishedmercury
Summary: The room almost spins and he hears Archon's voice distantly, telling him that he's going to reward his favorite pet. What reward was he talking about? What had he done? He doesn't know, but he realizes that he's naked on a bed. He doesn't know this room. He stares longingly at the figures of Chroma and Blaine and he's not sure why they're here. Hadn't he run so Archon couldn't get them? Weren't they out of reach of his influence? His mind can't come up with any answers. "They're yours," Archon whispers in his ear. "They're yours, aren't they?" Maybe, he thinks. Maybe. He can't speak and Archon seems to know this as he falls away, almost like mist, and Blaine and Chroma are approaching him. He misses them so much, but this isn't how he wanted to see them again. He still can't move his body how he wants to, still can't say what he needs to. Archon is doing this. He pleads. Stop, Archon is doing this, Blaine. He tries. The words never leave his tongue.
Relationships: Ailill Vermilion/Chroma Holani/Blaine Tybalt
Kudos: 1





	roses

Enthrallment— it was a tricky thing really. He knows his mind is still his own, but it's almost like there's a cloud covering his consciousness, almost like he's watching himself move and think, but they're not his own thoughts. It's like he's a passenger in his own life, moving like a doll for Archon's whims and pleasure. He watches as Archon moves him this way and that, watches pretty fingers dance across his cheek. He wants to yank his head away from those hands, but he can't. There is nothing he can do, but sit in his own head and watch this play out. He vaguely registers that there's some sort of collar around his neck and he feels it doing... _something_ to his body, but he can't reach up to investigate it and Archon laughs a pretty laugh and pets his head and tells him not to worry about it. For some reason, that comforts him and he shudders to think that Archon could be anything of the sort.  
The room almost spins and he hears Archon's voice distantly, telling him that he's going to reward his favorite pet. What reward was he talking about? What had he done? He doesn't know, but he realizes that he's naked on a bed. He doesn't know this room. He stares longingly at the figures of Chroma and Blaine and he's not sure why they're here. Hadn't he run so Archon couldn't get them? Weren't they out of reach of his influence? His mind can't come up with any answers. "They're yours," Archon whispers in his ear. "They're yours, aren't they?" Maybe, he thinks. Maybe. He can't speak and Archon seems to know this as he falls away, almost like mist, and Blaine and Chroma are approaching him. He misses them so much, but this isn't how he wanted to see them again. He still can't move his body how he wants to, still can't say what he needs to. _Archon is doing this._ He pleads. _Stop, Archon is doing this, Blaine._ He tries. The words never leave his tongue.  
They're on the bed with him and he's missed their touch so much, can't help but to want to lean into it. But he doesn't want this. He doesn't want this, at all. He tries to tell them no, tries to plead with them to just _snap out of it_ , but he can't say anything through the fog that clouds his mind. He weakly shakes his head. _Don't do this_. _Don't touch me._ They don't listen. They can't listen. His stomach twists with the need to throw up as they keep touching him and he realizes that he likes it as much as he hates it. _This isn't them._ He tries to console himself, but he's so panicked, he doesn't care. There's a touch at his hip and a tear slips out.  
"Why?" He finally manages to ask.  
"You're ours, aren't you?" Chroma whispers into his ear. He's theirs, but he never thought they'd hurt him like this. _They wouldn't. They wouldn't, this is Archon_ _._ He tries to get himself to understand that, but he can't through the choking sensation in his throat and the pit forming deep in his belly. He writhes between them as they use him for their pleasure, weakly twisting in their holds and he can't look at the expression of adoration on Blaine's face as he touches him. This is not love. This is not affection. His loves would not force him like this. His loves would not defile him in this way. But here they are, hurting him in ways he'll never heal from.  
It's then that Ailill notices his sister standing at the opposite end of the bedroom. She's watching with a look of sadness and amusement. His arm shakily reaches for her. _Help me, Aisling._ His eyes seem to say. _Help me, please._ She shakes her head no, still with that same sad smile on her face. He must look confused at her refusal, for she speaks then. "You never stopped them from raping me, Ailill." Was this what she wanted? Did she want to see him raped by his own lovers? His vision blurs as more tears escape his eyes. "You never protected me. How can I protect you?" That was a lie. He always protected her. It was always about her. He shakes his head frantically, but she still has that same look in her eyes, almost like she enjoys watching him be hurt like this. He has to look away.  
"Don't do this," He manages to say when he feels someone's cock pressed against his entrance.  
"You're ours," The Apparition Chroma repeats. He cries as he's violated. He feels even sicker when he realizes that it still feels good. He watches from deep within his own mind. He's still pleading with his heart to understand that it's not them. _This is Archon._ His mind says. _They're hurting us! They're hurting us!_ His heart screams. They twist and turn his body to how they like it. They fuck him on his side, on his back, hold him on his hands and knees. He's never going to be able to accept their touch ever again, he realizes distantly, Blaine's cock shoved down his throat. He's never going to be able to hold them or be held. This is what Archon wants, he knows, but they're hurting him in ways he cannot ever describe.  
Aisling still watches from her spot across the room and he can't bear her gaze for longer than a few seconds. She's laughing now. Laughing at his pain. _Someone help me._ He pleads. There's no one to hear it. _Somebody help me!_ He continues to endure.  
"Begone!" He hears a voice yell, and it's familiar in all it's strangeness. Aisling is gone when he looks at her and he can no longer feel Chroma and Blaine's hands on him. He's no longer naked and there is no longer a bed. There are still tears making their way down his cheeks and he cannot hold his head up. He feels so tired, so broken. Calloused hands hold his face and he flinches before his head is gently pulled upwards to stare into sky blue eyes. "... We will speak of what happened to you, later." Who is this? Who, who, who? He knows him, somehow, but he can't come up with a name. The chains are gone, the collar broken in half in the stranger's hands.  
"Merlin..." He breathes. This is Merlin.  
"Yes," Merlin agrees, quietly, but he doesn't know if this is the Merlin he knows or another trick of Archon's. He doesn't care, he just needs comfort and familiarity. He collapses the moment the last shackle is broken, holding him close, and he knows by the way Merlin's hand gently cradles his head in his neck that this is the man he had learned under. "You're safe." He says. He doesn't believe Merlin's words. He'll never be safe from Archon, he knows that now. His cruelty knows no end.  
"Help me," He begs. It's pathetic.  
"I'm here," Merlin says, voice tinged in sadness. "We have to leave." He doesn't argue as Merlin pulls away, hands already moving in that familiar way to break open a portal in the thick clouds of reality. "Ailill." He says firmly and he snaps back to focus when he'd spaced out too long. He can't forget the hands, can't forget her face. "We have to _go_." He repeats, more firmly, and he follows bonelessly when Merlin steps through the portal. He will never forget the cruelty Archon has shown him. And he will never make the same mistake of being caught ever again.


End file.
